


Walking contradiction (english version)

by Rosesnfeathers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Businessman Liam, M/M, Punk!Zayn, Tongue Piercings, snake bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosesnfeathers/pseuds/Rosesnfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then, someone cleared their throat next to him and he heard the softest, most delicate voice he had ever heard spoke to him and no. That punk couldn’t have that beautiful of a voice but yes, Liam be damned, it was him, standing next to him with a tiny smile stretching his beautiful pink lips.</p>
<p>“Like what you see?”</p>
<p>Liam was confused. Was he asking that about the painting on the wall or about his own self because, the way Liam was eye-fucking him must have been obvious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or the one where Liam is some successful businessman who ends up into that art exhibit and found himself mesmerized by that punk with colourful tattoos and piercings everywhere</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking contradiction (english version)

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I wrote that one in french first maybe... a year ago? and I decided to translate it in english because I thought it was good and hot. All the love to [Avery](http://zaynspank.tumblr.com)[](http://zaynspank.tumblr.com) for reading it and fixing my mistakes. Love you loads xx.

Seriously? Someone must have decided to play with Liam’s feelings, to get him into that fucked up situation.

There weren’t any other explanations; God himself had decided to make Liam’s life a living hell. There weren’t any long gone cousins visiting Niall from Ireland, no, it was some weird twist of destiny that he was into that art gallery tonight, and that he was about to go completely crazy.

He was turning his phone into his pocket, more than ready to ring Niall and call him up on his bullshit. He would have done it, yell at him and tell him it was the last time he was covering him for that kind of event… He would have done it but, he was kind of hypnotized by… By… He couldn’t even find words to describe that _man_ in front of him.

Niall and Liam were both at the head of one of the most powerful and successful company in the city. His dad had told them that investing into some art stuff would be good for them, would give them more opportunities and of course it was a great idea but… Niall was the best for that kind of thing. Not Liam.

Liam knew nothing about art and, even if Niall wasn’t any better than him, he had something special about him. He was good enough to make them believe he was a pro. Like he had some famous artists into his family and he knew everything about all kinds of art. Liam wasn’t so lucky. It was Niall that was the social one, not him.

And still, Liam was there, with a glass of wine he still hasn’t tasted, in a room full of artsy people and he was looking at the pieces on the walls, completely lost.

Since his teenage years, since Liam had figure that he liked boys as much as girls, he always had a thing for people more… Edgy?

Maybe it was because he had been raised into a pretty strict family, going to private school with his life already plan for him, having no choice at all for what his future career would be. Maybe it was because of that that he found himself bringing people home that he knew were going to drive his parents completely crazy.

Tattoos were a big weakness of his. Niall knew it. He saw Liam looking at that pretty pink haired barista at their favorite coffee shop, the one with a colorful sleeve up her left arm.

Or even the mail boy at the office, the one with so many earrings that he was almost shining into the morning sunlight. He also had a batman symbol tattooed on his leg and Liam couldn’t help but blush every time he was complimenting him on the color of his tie, matching the deep brown of his eyes.

Niall must have known that he was going to be there today and that’s why he sent Liam and his evil plan was more than successful so far.

See, there was this boy, no this _man_ , going around the gallery. He was looking almost shy as he was chatting with people all over the room, with a fragile confidence and he was almost adorable with it.

What was doing _things_ to Liam’s mind was that his looks were such a drastic contrast with his attitude, like his edgy looks were just hiding a beautiful warm ball of sunshine and sweetness. He was going around the room, talking and looking at anyone but Liam, and he was going mad with it.

He had big white Doc Martens boots on his feet with tight black skinny jeans with a hole on his knee. He was also wearing a crisp white shirt, buttoned all the way up to his throat, but the sleeves were up, showing twirls of dark ink against his olive skin. His golden brown eyes were decorated with black eye liner, making his long eye lashes looking even more surreal. His black hair was shaved short on the side and longer on top, resting softly on his forehead, blue highlights glowing under the spotlights of the gallery. His ears were full of silver rings, as the right side of his nose, and his bottom lips were too. He had what Liam knew was called snake bites and he was running his tongue over the shiny little loops as his eyes finally met Liam’s.

And his hearts stopped and he had to look away, drinking his whole glass of wine in one long gulp. He was looking at one of the paintings now, suddenly really interested, trying to understand what that mix of beautiful colors could mean.

Then, someone cleared their throat next to him and he heard the softest, most delicate voice he had ever heard spoke to him and no. That punk couldn’t have that beautiful of a voice but yes, Liam be damned, it was him, standing next to him with a tiny smile stretching his beautiful pink lips.

“Like what you see?”

Liam was confused. Was he asking that about the painting on the wall or about his own self because, the way Liam was eye-fucking him must have been obvious.

Anyway, the answer was yes to both of those questions so he gave the punk a small nod of his head trying to look him in the eye instead of staring at his lips and those mesmerizing piercings. To be completely sure that Liam was utterly and completely gone for that beautiful stranger, he let out a delicious sound, almost giggling, with his tongue pressed behind his front teeth and his eyes shining with glee.

“I don’t wanna sound rude or whatever but, you look completely lost here. Since you’ve passed those doors you’ve had a look of panic in your eyes, mate.”

The tone of his voice was not mean, he wasn’t mocking him he was just teasing, like, Liam being completely lost surrounded by all those colorful paintings was the most adorable thing he had seen in a while.

Liam started breathing again, didn’t even realize he had stopped. He was relieved, seeing that talking to that beautiful punk was easy after all, that he made it all easy like he really wanted to talk with Liam.

“Niall, my partner, is the one who does these kinds of events, usually. I’m here because something came up and… It’s beautiful, really, but I don’t know a damn thing about art. I don’t even know who the artist is.”

“He is standing right in front of ya.”

“Oh.”

And he laughed. A full body laugh with his hand on his stomach, a hand full of rings and more ink but, again, he wasn’t mocking Liam. No, his eyes were too soft, his smile too kind. It was hot suddenly in the room and Liam felt to urge to maybe loosen his tie a little, that boy was doing things to him without even trying.

“Zayn Malik,” said the punk, holding his hand for Liam to shake.

“Liam Payne.”

“So Liam, tell me,” and he took a step closer, his hand resting at the bottom of Liam’s spine, his voice still so soft, his accent doing wonderful things to Liam’s name, stretching it into something sounding more like “Leeyum”. His perfume was intoxicating, surrounding them and Liam wanted to bury his face into his neck and just breathe it in, getting drunk on it, “Tell me what you see.”

Before them was the same painting from earlier. On that white canvas was just some splatters of paint, some blues, golds and reds and, it wasn’t representing anything, it was just some colors randomly making swirls and shapes but. It was breathtaking. It was just, happy? Like the blues and golds were something like a summer sky, and the red, as cliché as it was, was just love. A love story happening with a sunset in the background.

He said those words to Zayn, those exact same words and he felt the fingers on his back holding a little bit tighter. When he looked back at Zayn, that warm, kind smile was back, his eyes shining again but, with something else Liam couldn’t name yet.

“I take my words back, Liam. You know more than I thought you did about art.”

He gave him a wink and telling him that he needed to be a good host, he walked away from Liam, leaving him already missing that warmth against his body and that cologne, smelling like sugar and spice, like the walking contradiction Zayn Malik seemed to be.

They didn’t talk again that night, but they shared a good amount of knowing looks and shy smiles. Before leaving, Liam made his way towards the lady in charge of the exposition and made a bid on that painting and with wide eyes, she told him it was more than enough, that it was his if he wanted that one so bad.

After telling him he could pass to the gallery later that week to pick it up, Liam shook her hand, thanking her for her kindness.

With one last look to the crowd, his eyes met Zayn’s one last time and he left, with one last awkward wave of his fingers and his heart a bit heavy, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

If later that night, his dreams were filled with golden brown eyes and dark black hair tangled into his fingers, well the secret was well kept between him and his right hand.

\--

During the week, he had talk to Mary, the gallery owner, and they decided that Liam could pick up his painting on Sunday. When he told her that they were supposed to be closed on Sunday, according to the website, she had laughed and told him that somebody was going to be there to greet him anyway.

So he was there, in front of the big glass doors on Sunday, just before noon, the bright sun warming his back, clad in his simple white t-shirt. He knew someone was inside because he could hear loud music even from the sidewalk. Something by Justin Timberlake maybe, or Usher?

He followed the beat until he stood in the entrance of a big white room, most of the walls were still white, but the rest were spray painted with bright colors.

It was a mix of pretty much everything, from words, to some animals, superhero emblems or just abstract swirls of bright colors.

It was beautiful, really.

He saw, in the corner of one of the walls, a pair of brown eyes looking dangerously like the ones he was meeting in the mirror every morning, but before he could look at them more closely, the person who was painting turned around to face him.

He knew it was Zayn from the moment he saw him but what he didn’t know, is that he wasn’t ready for seeing him again. Not like that anyway.

He was looking so soft, so vulnerable, so damn cuddly in his grey sweatpants full of splatters of paint from pretty much every color. His tank top was scooping so low that he could see even more ink on his dark skin and his hair was a mess, hiding beneath a bright red beanie. Even behind his mask, Liam could see his was smiling because his eyes were crinkling with it.

Zayn turned the radio off before pulling his mask up on his head and finally walking towards Liam, his smile still in place and Liam’s knees were suddenly a bit weaker at the sight before his eyes. If he was handsome last week, Liam loved that look even better. It was like he was looking at the real Zayn, the one putting his heart and soul on the walls of that room.

“I almost didn’t recognize ya without the suit.”

“Well I try not to be too formal on Sundays.”

He also told Zayn how much he loves the room, and Zayn told him Mary let him do what he wanted here, that it was some kind of diary for him.

Liam wanted to ask again, about those brown eyes in the corner of the wall, just under a big Iron Man mask, but Zayn was faster.

“You came to pick your painting? It’s in Mary’s office, I’ll show you.”

Following Zayn, Liam saw that even on his back, he had some tattoos, seeing them through the thin fabric of his tank top. A bird was resting high on his spine and Liam wanted to taste it, to trace it with the tip of his tongue, wanted to know if Zayn also tasted spicy and sweet.

The dark haired boy turned back to him, lifting an eyebrow like he was waiting for Liam’s answer and he wasn’t even listening to him. Too busy thinking about all the things he would do to him, without any clothes on, yes and please.

“I’m sorry,” Liam said, knowing that his cheeks were probably pink with embarrassment.

“I said I’m happy you bought that one. It’s my favorite.”

“Oh… No Zayn I don’t wanna buy if it’s your favorite I mean, it’s yours anyway so —”

“Liam,” Zayn was suddenly up in his space, his hands resting softly on his shoulders. “Do you like it?”

Liam was a bit distracted by those bright eyes looking at him from behind his long, long lashes and the way he was still playing with those damn rings on his lip.

And all he did was nod his head, because he was pretty much speechless. Because speaking wasn’t what he wanted to do with his mouth no, he wanted to kiss Zayn, and bite at his bottom lip until the other boy was a whimpering mess in his hands.

“If you like it, then it’s yours.”

Those words had so much more than one meaning and Zayn took a step back, a step towards the painting resting against the wall but Liam stopped him with a firm hand around his wrist, pulling the tattooed man closer to him, until both of their chests were almost touching. He was almost scared that Zayn could hear the crazy beating of his heart.

Zayn then, ran his tongue against that lip, and Liam put his hand on his cheek, resting it there softly enough that if the other boy wanted to take a step back, he could. He didn’t though, he leaned into Liam’s hand and it was enough for him to finally close the distance between them and kiss him. Their lips finally meeting after he had been thinking about it the whole week.

It was better than Liam’s wildest dreams because Zayn was kissing him back, with force and intent, closing his hands in the front of Liam’s shirt and pulling him closer to him, like such a thing was possible.

He did what he wanted to do, and bite at the full bottom one, getting high on the low, throaty moan leaving Zayn lips. His hands let go of Liam’s shirt, only to slip beneath the material and run up his back to his shoulder blades and back down, one resting at the bottom of his spine and the other one shamelessly grabbing his ass.

Liam let his head fall onto Zayn’s shoulder because they were now grinding against each other and feeling Zayn’s erection through the thin material of his sweatpants was making his head spin.

Without a warning, Zayn pushed Liam against the desk in the middle of the room, and undid his belt with shaky hands.

He looked at him, his eyes full of questions, before doing anything else. When Liam let a breathless “Yeah” cross his lips, Zayn fell down on his knees in front of him, tugging at his zipper and then his jeans, letting them pool at his ankles.

Liam let his head fall back, gripping at the desk when he felt Zayn’s warm breathe against the damp material of his black tight underwear. He was kissing and biting at the inside of his thighs, his fingers teasing at the waistband, making goose bumps spread all over his skin.

Liam took his shirt off as Zayn pulled at his boxers, finally, letting them fall on top of Liam’s jeans. and his hard cock sprang free, hitting his stomach and leaving it shiny with precome. He was painfully hard, so turned on about the fact that Zayn was on his knees in front of him.

He took Liam in his hand and licked his lips, like he was desperate for a taste and he let his tongue trace the vein on the underside of Liam’s dick. Liam’s knees suddenly felt like jelly when he felt something else teasing him.

Because on top of feeling those two little silver loops dragging against the sensitive skin of his cock in the most delicious way, Zayn had also a piercing through is tongue. He was using it in all the right places and Liam was seeing stars already despite that he wasn’t even that far into the welcoming warmth of Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn was smiling because he knew what effect he had on Liam. He had to look away when Zayn finally closed his lips around the head because that sight was enough to make him come on the spot. Seeing his lips stretched around him, and seeing that little sparkle of steel on his tongue when he was twirling it around Liam’s was just too much.

He knew that if he kept looking at Zayn, all of this was going to end way too soon but he couldn’t look away, he had to remember every moments of it.

Zayn’s eyes were full of tears, his eye liner smudging with it and it was so hot, Liam wasn’t even supposed to be that turned on by it.

He pulled at Zayn’s beanie, removing it from his head because he needed to bury his hands into his dark, soft looking locks. And he grabbed at it a bit too hard and he was scared of hurting Zayn, but the other one let out a whimper around his cock. A whimper that he felt from his head to his toes, curling into his shoes.

That was enough to rip his orgasm from him, spilling into Zayn’s mouth and he was swallowing it all, milking him through it, like he was craving every drop of Liam’s come.

When he let go of him, Liam hissing with how sensitive he was, a little bit of his spunk had dropped onto Zayn’s chin and he made a show of cleaning it with his thumb and sucking it into his mouth, so red and so shiny with spit and come.

Liam finally came down from his high to see Zayn, with his head resting on his hip, a hand buried into his sweatpants.

He pulled him back to his feet, kissing him, enjoying the bitter taste of himself on his tongue and closing his hand around his painful looking dick. He kissed him for a few beats, slowly pumping him, enough to keep him on edge without being tight enough to make him come.

He replaced his mouth with his fingertips against Zayn’s lips and the other boy complied quickly, sucking and licking at the digits, making them wet and shiny with his spit.

Liam fucked his fingers into Zayn’s mouth a bit, almost getting hard again at seeing him so desperate for it.

When he took them out, he kissed him again, quick and hard because he was already addicted to that mouth. He let his fingers slipped between Zayn’s butt cheeks and circled his rim, closing his hand a bit tighter around his cock.

It took only a few flicks of his wrist and his middle finger slightly entering Zayn’s tight ring of muscle for him to let his head fall onto Liam’s shoulders and biting hard at the soft skin of his neck.

He came without a sound, spilling onto Liam’s fingers and a bit on his stomach.

Liam wanted to put more than only one finger into him. He wanted to fuck him senseless on that desk but no, not today. He was hoping more than anything that he could have another chance, another moment like that, maybe in a bed this time.

Zayn lift his head and ran his tongue on the sore spot on Liam’s neck, admiring that mark he just left there.

“I’ve never painted anything as beautiful as that,” his voice was rough and exhausted but it was one of the best thing Liam had ever heard.  “or as beautiful as you.” Like Zayn was thinking of him like some kind of piece of art.

But he wasn’t. Zayn was art, Zayn was the beautiful one. Everything about him was, and even more right now, his hair a complete mess and his lips thoroughly ruined by Liam’s ones.

They cleaned themselves as good as they can and tried to hide the fact that they had almost fucked into Mary’s office.

They had trouble looking at each other without smiling or blushing.

How could Zayn look so shy now, after sucking Liam’s dick like a pornstar?  It was a complete mystery. That boy was full of contradictions. He was a walking contradiction himself and Liam was dying to know him better, to learn everything about that beautiful, mysterious boy.

He was so scared that this was the end. That they would walk away from each other and just forget that moment they had just shared.

He took the painting in his hands and Zayn walked him back to his car in complete silence. When he closed the trunk though, Zayn was just here, so close to him and he smelled like sex and spray paint and Liam was dizzy with it all.

He closed one of his hand around Liam’s elbow and let it run down his arms, circling his wrist softly before kissing him again, but chastely this time.

“I would like to see where you’re going to hang it.”

Liam couldn’t help but smile at that and kiss Zayn again, making him taste that smile he had just put on his face.

Liam was more than okay with showing him where that painting was going to be in his flat. He was more than okay with Zayn in his home, and showing him everything.

From his couch to his kitchen table and most of all his bed. Maybe that piece was the first of many more of Zayn’s hanging on the walls of his flat? Maybe, hopefully, he could inspire some of the future ones too? Some with bright red and brown and gold. Maybe?

 

 


End file.
